Just Another Day, Right?
by key-to-life
Summary: Can father and son patch things up or will it forever be too late. Contains a warning within the link.


*******Warning- Contains Character Death***** **

**Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural unfortunately!**

**This is my first Supernatual story and takes place a few months after Sam left for Stanford, but before he met Jessica.**

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He was fine right? Right! He was absolutely fine. Fine, fine, fine, just fine. Who needed a stupid big brother anyway, always telling him what to do and where to go? Good riddens, Sam was his own man now. God his brother could be so, so bossy...ha! And he was short. Sam stifled a laugh. Oh Dean thought he was it, 'Mr Cool', 'Mr Sexy', 'Mr Hot Shot', 'Mr I-Can't-Reach-the-Top-of-the-God-Damn-Fridge' more like. But not Sam. Nope, he was the Sasquatch of the family, he was the clever one of the family, he was the black sheep of the family, he was the odd one out, the freak.

Sam bit his tongue and squeezed his eyes shut tight to stop tears rolling down his face. God, why did he care so much about his damn family anyway, they didn't care about him! Well certainly not his dad anyway, after all, what sort of a man tells his own son that if he leaves for college, if he wants something more than hunting, if he wants to make something of himself then he was no longer welcome in the family. Yep, either have a life and be disowned or become a hunter, get into the family business – great choice. Sam needed to stop doing this; he needed to stop thinking about his family, his unloving family. He needed to get it together. He sighed. He knew what he had to do but it was difficult. He had a life now and it was good – no demon hunting, no training, no target practise – a good life, full of friends and studying and normal. Sam sighed again. '_Normal_' could he ever be normal? He was trying, he really was, but perhaps he wasn't fitting in as well as he hoped. Maybe people were just afraid of him, afraid of the overly tall, moody freak! He would never escape it. _He_ was a freak. And with that thought Sam made up his mind. He had to do it. It was now or never and the longer he waited the harder it would get. Sam grunted. This was it. Tonight's the night. His family would forever remember this day as the day Sam Winchester finally achieved something great.

John Winchester stood alone in the shadows looking up at the brightly lit window on the second floor. He sighed, letting out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. His baby boy was in there, so close yet so far, just out of reach. John scrubbed his rough callous hand over his face. What had he done? He had said some terrible things to Sam that night. What kind of father was he anyway? Sam had finally gotten the opportunity he always wanted, what John had wanted for both his children a long, long time ago. A chance to go to college, a chance for a normal life, a chance to get out. John prayed, 'Mary, forgive me what have I done to our sons?' At that moment, John wanted nothing more than to barge into the dorms, run up the flight of stairs, bang on Sam's door and enclose his son in a good, old-fashioned hug, a manly hug of course, they were Winchesters after all and as Dean put it 'No Chick Flick moments' allowed. Not in their evil-hunting, demon-fighting, bad ass (but damn sexy) family. Nope instead John did the next best thing...nothing. That was a much better plan, do absolutely nothing. What's the point in letting his youngest know that he _was_ loved and still a Winchester and that his father couldn't be more damn proud of him? Hell John was proud of both his sons. John stood and watched Sam's window for a few more minutes before the light finally flickered off and there was nothing to see but darkness. John whispered into the cold night air, "Good night Sammy." And as he skulked off in the dark, his hands in the pockets of his old leather jacket, his head bowed low, he was deep in thought. Perhaps tomorrow he would finally talk to his son, yeah, tomorrow looked like a good day to sort out this whole big mess.

Little did John Winchester know that while he was making plans to amend his relationship with his son, so was Sam...just in a different sort of way. As Sam switched off his bedroom light and climbed into bed, he let his mind slip back to his family. He really did love them, all of them, Dean, Bobby, Pastor Jim, Caleb, Josh but most of all his dad. Sure Sam was aware of everything Dean gave up for him when they were younger, Dean had looked after him, cared for him, helped him out in any way possible but it was John that was still deep down (deep deep down) his hero, his number one. Just a pity he got so obsessed with hunting that freakin' demon that he lost all sight of what was really important, say for example; his sons! This was it, his last chance, he could turn back now or swallow the lump in his throat and man up; he wasn't a little kid anymore. He had to do this; he missed his family too much. He couldn't stand it any longer. And with that Sam opened the bottle of pills and swallowed the remaining contents dry. It would be over quick.

Sam lay waiting. He moaned. If only there had been another way. '_No!_' this was the only way. It was for the best. Choking back heart wrenching emotions Sam cried out, "I love you Dean, I love you Dad." With that Sam finally allowed the tears, which he had been holding back for so long, to fall. His heart started to slow, his breathing evening out and just as he slipped into peaceful unconsciousness his phone started to buzz loudly on his nightstand. The blue backlight illuminating the word '_Dad_' on the caller ID.

John pressed his phone intensely to his ear; he just couldn't wait until tomorrow, he had to speak to Sam now. As it went to voicemail John mentally cursed himself for not phoning sooner. Oh well, he would just have to try again tomorrow, what's another day? He flipped his phone shut, severing all connection with his son's voice telling him to leave a message after the beep. As John looked up at Sam's blackened window he couldn't help but notice it looked so cold, so empty, so uninhabited, John shook his head to get the image away and sighed. But Sam...well, Sam would never sigh again...come to think of it; Sam would never do anything again. Just another day, right?

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Please don't hate me, I swear I had no intentions of ever writing something like this, it just sorta happened. Reviews are loved as I have a very hectic life - it gives me something to life for!


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